UNWELCOME FLAMES

The woman’s moans filled the opulent master bedroom like a symphony of sin. Ronan Sterling didn’t do gentle. He never had. His fingers dug into Serena’s hips as he drove into her from behind with deep, punishing thrusts. The sound of skin slapping skin mixed with her desperate cries.

“Ronan—oh God, yes, just like that!” Serena gasped, her blonde hair a mess as she pushed back against him, chasing her pleasure like the greedy socialite she was.

He smirked coldly, one large hand fisting her hair while the other slapped her ass hard enough to leave a red imprint. “Shut up and take it,” he growled, his voice low and commanding. He fucked her harder, relentless, chasing nothing but release. No emotions. No promises. Just raw, physical relief.

Serena came first, her walls clenching around him as she screamed his name. Ronan followed shortly after with a low, guttural groan, spilling into the condom. He pulled out immediately, discarding it and heading straight for the ensuite bathroom without a backward glance.

“Leave before I’m out of the shower,” he said flatly. “And Serena? Don’t show up unannounced again. I’m not in the mood for repeats.”

She pouted from the bed, but she knew the rules. Ronan Sterling didn’t do girlfriends or attachments. He did sex — hot, dirty, and on his terms.

By the time he emerged, dressed in a tailored black shirt that hugged his broad shoulders and muscular chest, the staff was in full preparation mode. His father’s latest mistake was arriving today. Victor Sterling had married Elena Monroe after a whirlwind romance, and now the woman’s daughter was moving into the family mansion.

Ronan poured himself a glass of aged whiskey, staring out at the private beach below. At twenty-eight, he had built his own tech empire from the ground up. He didn’t need this blended-family circus. Especially not when his father’s business dealings were already under scrutiny.

The crunch of gravel announced their arrival. Ronan watched from the window as the black SUV pulled up.

Elena stepped out first — polished, smiling, clearly thrilled to be Mrs. Sterling now. Then came her daughter.

Lila Monroe.

Ronan’s hand tightened around the crystal glass. She was… unexpected. Long, wavy dark hair that caught the sunlight like silk. A simple white sundress that clung to her slender yet curvaceous figure — full breasts, narrow waist, hips that swayed naturally as she walked. Striking green eyes scanned the massive mansion with a mix of awe and guarded caution. She carried herself with quiet dignity, not the entitled swagger he had anticipated from a gold-digger’s daughter.

Their eyes locked through the glass.

Time seemed to slow. A spark — hot, dangerous, and completely unwanted — jumped between them. Ronan felt it low in his gut, a sudden tightening that had nothing to do with the woman he’d just fucked upstairs.

Lila’s cheeks flushed slightly. She looked away first.

*Good,* Ronan thought. *Keep it that way.*

He downed the rest of his whiskey and headed toward the grand foyer, his expression carved from ice.

“Welcome to the Sterling estate,” he said coolly as they entered, his deep voice cutting through the air. His gaze raked over Lila briefly — dismissive on the surface, but his body remembered that spark. “Try not to break anything.”

Elena laughed nervously. “Ronan, this is my daughter, Lila. Lila, this is Victor’s son.”

Lila lifted her chin, meeting his stare head-on despite the clear tension. “Nice to meet you,” she said, her voice steady but with an edge. “Though from the look on your face, I’m guessing the feeling isn’t mutual.”

Ronan’s lips curved into a mocking smile. “Perceptive. Let’s get one thing clear — this is *my* house. Play nice, stay out of my way, and we won’t have problems.”

Lila’s green eyes flashed with fire. “I’m not here to play games, *stepbrother*. I’m here because I have no choice. So maybe dial back the asshole attitude.”

The air between them crackled. Ronan stepped closer, towering over her. He could smell her light floral scent, see the rapid rise and fall of her chest. Fuck, she was beautiful when she was angry.

“Careful,” he murmured, voice low enough that only she could hear. “You’re in my world now. And I don’t play nice with pretty little intruders.”

Lila’s breath hitched, but she didn’t back down. The tension between them was thick enough to cut — hate mixed with something far more dangerous.

Something that felt like the beginning of an obsession.

As Elena called for the staff to bring in the luggage, Ronan turned away, but not before his mind already started wondering what Lila Monroe would sound like moaning *his* name.

This was going to be hell.